Revenant
by The Half-Blood Guardian
Summary: "Looks like we're just two peas in a pod, Baymax. Maybe we're both broken…" Or, Tadashi is, in a sense, still with Hiro after the fire that took his life, Hiro breaks down (again) and Baymax does whatever he can to take care of his creator's little brother.


**This story is inspired by my interest in supernatural fiction and is dedicated to my older sister, who passed away on April 18th 2018, and whose death I've only recently really accepted and moved past enough to finally dust off and finish this work after almost two years. I love you, sis.**

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**Revenant**

**By: The Half-Blood Guardian**

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Hiro flopped back onto his bed, pulling the microbot out of his hoodie and twisting it absently between his fingers. "This doesn't make any sense," he muttered, closing his eyes and mentally going over the day's events, from accidentally bringing Baymax online to following the robot through the streets to escaping the apparently not-so-abandoned factory and barely making it home. (He pushed from his mind all the instances where his… _hallucinations_ had popped up; they would only get in the way of figuring out what in the world was actually happening.)

"Tadashi."

Hiro opened his eyes and sat up quickly at the name, looking at Baymax in shock. "What?"

Baymax had his head turned and was looking in the direction of Tadashi's bed. "Tadashi." He repeated.

Hiro got up from his own bed and walked over to the border of his brother's side of the room. He leaned lightly against the open Shoji screen that separated his side from Tadashi's and stared forlornly at his brother's hat, which rested on the center of the bed. "Tadashi's gone." He started to pull the Shoji closed, not wanting any more reminders of the tragedy.

"When will he return?" The robot inquired in a curious voice.

"He's dead, Baymax." Hiro said, feeling a now familiar stab of pain as he did so.

Baymax blinked at the small teen. "Tadashi was in excellent health. With a proper diet and exercise, he should have lived a long life."

"Yeah. He should have." The boy said bitterly. "But there was a fire, and now he's gone." He crossed over to the other side of the room.

Baymax tilted his head, and a faint whir sounded before he spoke again. "Tadashi is here."

Hiro sighed tiredly. "No. People keep saying 'he's not _really_ gone, as long as we remember him'." The boy slumped into his swivel chair. "…still hurts."

"Tadashi is here."

"Did you not hear what I just said?" Hiro asked in irritation.

Baymax did not answer his question, instead continuing, "My scanners indicate that there is another sentient being in this room, which my optical cameras alone have not been able to detect. The being is composed mainly of an unknown, sparsely connected element, which, I observed, has been appearing frequently throughout the day. The being is also emitting a brainwave signature matching Tadashi's. Conjecture for possible diagnosis: Tadashi's consciousness has been transferred into another form."

"…Great," Hiro huffed, "You're broken." But then he remembered his hallucinations; the voice he'd been hearing and the glimpses he'd caught of a familiar figure, and just for a second, he allowed himself to believe in the impossible.

As soon as he did, the same figure that had previously disappeared from view whenever he'd tried to look at it came into focus.

"_Ah!_" Hiro jumped and covered his head, his mind only registering the fact that this situation should have been utterly impossible. A few seconds later, nothing else had happened, and he slowly lowered his arms to really _look_ at the figure.

"Tadashi?" He asked in a choked whisper. A quick flash of wide, surprised eyes, then a warm smile and a silent nod. Hiro sucked in a breath and reached a trembling hand out to touch the figure's shoulder. His hand passed right through, and the figure disappeared.

"Wait!" Hiro lunged forward to wrap his arms around the spot where the image had been, as if doing so could bring it back. It didn't, of course, and for a while Hiro just stood there motionless and stared, unseeing, at the opposite wall.

He blinked and the spell was broken. He released a shuddering breath. His legs suddenly felt like noodles, and he sunk to the floor, bringing his knees up and resting his forehead on them. He squeezed his eyes shut and brought his hands to his head, fingers tangling in his hair and grasping tightly at the strands.

"I'm losing my mind…" he whispered.

About ten seconds passed with Hiro curled up on the floor, rocking slightly and unaware of anything but his inner turmoil. Then the sound of vinyl rubbing against vinyl as Baymax waddled over to him brought him back to awareness, and he lifted his head up a bit so he could see the robot. Baymax came to a stop about two feet away from the boy and blinked twin camera lenses down at him.

Hiro suddenly found himself laughing hysterically, the strange and uncontrollable urge suddenly taking him over before he could even try to suppress it. He laughed until his sides hurt, and when his eyes began to leak with tears the peals of laughter turned to weeping.

By the time the last of the sobs had left him, he was sprawled out on the floor, completely and utterly exhausted. His puffy, half-lidded eyes slowly found their way back to Baymax, who was still standing in the same position he'd been in before. Hiro was sure that if he'd been in his normal frame of mind right now, he would have felt embarrassed at having a witness to his breakdown, even if that witness was a robot. But as it was he just stared numbly at Baymax, who was thankfully silent for once, probably understanding that verbal communication wasn't the best course of action right now.

"Looks like we're just two peas in a pod, Baymax," Hiro croaked hoarsely, throat sore from all of its recent use. His gaze wandered up to the ceiling, becoming slightly unfocused as his thoughts turned inward once again. "Maybe we're both broken…"

At this, Baymax bent over and scooped Hiro up in his big, squishy arms, then walked over to the boy's bed. Carefully setting Hiro down, the robot grabbed the edge of the covers from where they were bunched up at the foot of the bed and pulled them over the teenager's body. Baymax shuffled towards the light switch, and Hiro felt a swell of affection in his chest as he looked at his brother's greatest creation. Just as the robot was about to flip the switch, Hiro spoke up.

"Maybe we are broken," he said. Baymax turned his head towards him, and he gave the robot a small but genuine smile. "But I guess…" Hiro took a deep breath. "I guess that if there's any other broken individual that had to get stuck with me, I'm glad it's you." His eyes met Baymax's optical cameras. "Thank you, Baymax. I am satisfied with my care."

Baymax nodded once before flipping the switch, and if Hiro hadn't known better, he'd have thought that the robot had looked proud at the last statement. Hiro closed his eyes, hearing Baymax waddle back to his charging station and deflate, and fell asleep feeling a bit less heavy than he had in a long time.


End file.
